


A Very Fictional Q&A, With A Very Fictional My Chemical Romance

by romanticizingchemicals



Category: Black Veil Brides, Bring Me The Horizon, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Pierce the Veil
Genre: BVB, FOB, Fiction, MCR, Multi, My Chem, P!ATD, Q&A, bandoms - Freeform, bmth, i have no idea how to tag this, ptv - Freeform, question and answer, shit I somehow come up with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6502303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticizingchemicals/pseuds/romanticizingchemicals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What sorts of ideas pop into my head when I'm trying to get to sleep?</p><p>This shit.</p><p>I thought it'd be cool to do some questions and answers with Frank, Gerard, Mikey, Ray, and even Bob (along with some other friends). </p><p>Disclaimer: COMPLETELY FICTIONAL!</p><p>Feel free to comment any questions, and I'll do my best to answer them in the story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And That's How Bob Got Kicked Out Of The Band

*walks into room*

 

Okay guys, so we're going to do a little question and answer thing! You down with that?

 

Gerard: Sounds like it could be fun.

 

Mikey: Umm, okay?

 

Ray: Oh, totally! For the fans, of course...

 

Frank: Faith, what the fuck? No one is going to even read this.

 

Oh, Frank, you ass. Clearly you have no idea! People are here to hear—

 

Gerard: Me!

 

Frank: You selfish twit.

 

Ray: Oh my God, guys, just shut up and let Faith ask some damn questions.

 

Bob: Who's Faith?

 

Ray: Bob, we don't ask that question. 

 

Guys, please? Come on!

 

Frank: *sigh* Fine. But for the record, I hate you AND your obsession with Nutella.

 

YOU MONSTER!

 

Mikey: *face-palm* What the fuck you guys? Just pay attention!

 

Gerard: Fine, fine! This is a Q&A for...?

 

People. Fangirls. People with unhealthy obsessions who are still reading My Chemical Romance fanfiction in fucking 2016. 

 

Frank: Are you... crying?

 

No! No! Shut up!

 

Bob: *sigh* Just ask the damn questions already.

 

There are going to be a lot. I'm hoping people will comment and ask questions for you guys to answer. But I have guests that are going to come in and answer questions as well!

 

Mikey: Is Pete coming?

 

Maybe... But please don't fuck while I try to ask questions. That's bad publicity.

 

Mikey: I can't make any promises *winks*

 

Frank: Oh God, Mikey. You're confirming the hopes and dreams of every Petekey shipper out there. Just stop.

 

Bob: Do we even need to get started on Frerard? 

 

Ray: Guys, I'm serious. Shut up. Just ask the questions!

 

Okay, fine, fine. Mikes, I'll do my best to get Pete in here. Okay, first question is for... Frank. What made you join My Chemical Romance? 

 

Frank: Easy! Gerard sort of... bribed me.

 

Gerard: Frank!

 

Frank: *laughs* Okay, okay. Another story, another place. So they were pretty much my favorite band. Like, I was going to their gigs, The Used and I would open for them sometimes, shit like that. When they asked, I obviously said yeah, because they were my favorite band. 

 

That's sweet! 

 

Ray: Okay, next question.

 

Gerard: Why are you such an ass, there. That's the question. 

 

Ray: YOU LITTLE—

 

OKAY! STOP GUYS! Next question, geez... Gerard, why the fuck are you always dying your hair?

 

Gerard: Was that 'fuck' completely necessary?

 

I'm just reading what the cards say!

 

Frank: Fucking is always necessary.

 

Ray: DUDE STOP!

 

Gerard: Because one color for too long bores me. I change it as my emotions change. Right now, I feel kind of empty. So my hair is black. One day, I may feel excited, so I might dye it... red. Or I may feel like a fucking cancer patient one day, so it may go platinum blonde.

 

O-kay then...

 

Frank: Woah man, that's deep.

 

Mikey: Or it could be because of those posters—

 

Gerard: Mikey, shut up.

 

Guys. This is serious.

 

Bob: How much longer? 

 

This is just for right now. There are going to be other chapters, and other guests, and—

 

Ray: Oh God, come on!

 

The next question is for you, Ray.

 

Ray: Oh really? 

 

Yeah. How did the nickname 'Princess Fro-Fro' come around? 

 

Ray: Fucking kidding me?

 

Frank: *giggles* Oh Lord, yes.

 

Gerard: What?! What kind of nickname is that?

 

Ray: *glares at Frank* Fuck you.

 

Gerard: That's my job. Back off.

 

Mikey: ANSWER THE QUESTION! STOP!

 

Ray: Ugh, fine. I was at my mom's house with Frank, because it was our day off of tour. Mikey and Gerard went back home, Bob went... I don't know where Bob went. And I went home to my family. Frank's mom and dad weren't home, so I invited him over to spend time at my house. So night came around, and I realized that I didn't have a change of clothes. I had somehow forgotten my clothes on the bus. So I had to borrow one of my mom's nightgowns. I didn't think it'd be a huge deal... Because Frank and I were in separate rooms for the night. But no. I went natural, my hair, and so I looked like a gypsy or something took a shit on my head. The nightgown was a bright pink, with little tiaras on it. She didn't have anything else. Besides, it was comfortable... 

 

Gerard: Why couldn't you just wear your boxers? 

 

Ray: I wasn't thinking straight.

 

Frank: *laughs* Ah... So I caught him going to the bathroom at midnight in that nightgown. And I started calling him 'Princess Fro-Fro' as a joke. Some kid caught a video of me calling Ray that at a signing, when a fan gave me a tiara. I wore it to a photoshoot later on, but the nickname never died.

 

Ray: *grimaces* Why that question?

 

Notecards! Oh, Lord, that's great...

 

Mikey: I was wondering where that came from.  

 

Bob: Never going to die.

 

Ray: I'll get you for this Frank. And you, Faith. And your fucking notecards.

 

Oh, please. You can't even do an interview without trying your hand stuck in a cupcake. Next question is for Mikey... Is it true that you can play bass with one hand?

 

Mikey: Um, of course! Can't you see me playing it on stage one-handed? I'm just talented.

 

Frank: *coughs* Special effects *coughs

 

Mikey: Frank, what the fuck? You're just jealous.

 

Frank: I—

 

Okay, next question. Very nice, Mikey. Okay, Bob... Pick your poison?

 

Bob: What?

 

Your poison. Pick your poison.

 

Bob: Biocide, I don't know. That's a weird-ass question.

 

Gerard: No, like your poison. Like, choice of drink. For example, mine would _obviously_ be coffee. 

 

Frank: Here we go again...

 

Bob: Nope, nope! Not hearing this tale again. Um... I like sweet tea a lot. My Southern is showing.

 

Mikey: Dude, you're from Chicago. What the fuck?

 

Ray: Sweet tea can be a refreshment to be enjoyed by anyone. Anywhere. 

 

Frank: Shut up, Princess Fro-Fro. No one asked you.

 

Ray: YOU—

 

Guys, stop! Let me just ask questions!

 

Frank: Then ask them!

 

Fine! Ray, favorite movie?

 

Ray: Oh, I love Star Wars.

 

Gerard: Agh, me too! Fanboy moment, hold on... *pterodactyl screech*

 

Mikey: STAR WARS! YAS BOO!

 

*silence*

 

Mikey: What?

 

Bob: That was literally the gayest thing I've ever heard.

 

Frank: Oh, shut up. Homophobia is gay. Get over yourself, Bob. You tripped over your ego.

 

Ray: Guys, stop fighting. Hey, I have a question for Frank.

 

Frank: Yeah?

 

Ray: What's your number one essential for the bus? And don't say your vibrator.

 

Frank: *chokes* I... I don't have a v-vibrator. What the fuck?

 

Mikey: Don't lie. God doesn't like that.

 

Gerard: Technically—

 

Frank: Shut up! Shut! Up! I usually bring comics and movies. Essentials.

 

Ray: Hashtag essentials.

 

Bob: What is all this gay in here?

 

Gerard: Get out.

 

Frank: Literally leave.

 

Ray: Yeah man. That's downright offensive. You're out of the band.

 

Bob: What? It's just an opinion!

 

Mikey: GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS METAPHORICAL ROOM! NO ONE LIKED YOU ANYWAYS!

 

Bob: FINE, YOU FUCKERS! You can't kick me out, 'cos... I quit!

 

*Bob storms out*

 

So that's how Bob got kicked out of the band...

 

Ray: I think that's enough questioning for one chapter.

 

Frank: Shit just got real.

 

Gerard: Yeah... More questions next chapter.

 

Sorry for that guys... Don't hate me, please?

 

Frank: You're annoying as fuck, but we'll tolerate you. I mean, we wouldn't really be talking right now if you weren't typing imaginary dialogue.

 

SHUT UP! STOP! IT'S REAL!

 

Mikey: Someone take her to a psychiatric hospital, please...

 

NO! NO! THIS IS REAL! YOU BET MY ASS IT'S REAL!

 

Gerard: Just—

 

NO! CHAPTER DONE!

 

 

 


	2. These Ships Will Sail

Okay guys! Everyone listen up! I have some very special guests with me... So be on your best behavior.

 

Ray: If it's Barney, I am literally going to kill you. 

 

Frank: Ray, shut up. I'm sorry that I threw away your favorite hair product... It was an accident.

 

Ray: How the fuck do you accidentally throw away a thirty dollar bottle of hair gel? It's huge! 

 

Gerard: Girls, girls, you're both very pretty. Now shut the fuck up. Who are the guests?

 

May I present to you all... THE MEMBERS OF FALL OUT BOY AND PANIC! AT THE DISCO!

 

*enter Andy Hurley, Joe Trohman, Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump, Brendon Urie, Ryan Ross, Spencer Smith, and Dallon Weekes*

 

Mikey: PETE! *jumps up and hugs Pete*

 

Gerard: *chokes on coffee* Already?! Oh God, cover your eyes everyone.

 

Patrick: My poor virgin eyes...

 

Okay everyone, sit down!

 

Dallon: Who's that?

 

Frank: Faith. She's a little... She belongs in an insane asylum.

 

You bitch, I do not.

 

Pete: Cocky. I like her.

 

OH EM GEE, REALLY?! I LOVE YOU TOO ME PETE!

 

Pete: O-kay then...

 

Mikey: It's been too long, babe...

 

Joe: I've been quiet until now. Please separate those two.

 

Patrick: No, that's my OTP!

 

Gerard: Mine too! 

 

Brendon: I've been quiet way too long. Why am I not talking?

 

Because there are way too many people in here. But I better get started with the topic...

 

Dallon: And what would THAT be?

 

Ryan: If it's about milk, count me out.

 

Brendon: It's okay, Ry. You'll be fine. Stop bitching. You know you liked it anyways.

 

Gerard: OKAY WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION.

 

Guys, please—

 

Frank: And let's not even mention 'A Splitting of the Mind'. That shit is so sad...

 

NO DO NOT BRING THAT UP RIGHT NOW!

 

Patrick: Oh goodness... Faith, just... What's the topic, please?

 

So polite Pat-Pat!

 

Pete: That nickname! It's everything.

 

Ray: Life.

 

Frank: QUESTIONS AND TOPIC PL-EASE.

 

Fine, fine... The topic is... SHIPS!

 

Ray: Um, I don't know how ships work... 

 

Gerard: Idiot, not actual ships. The pairings (often fictional) of characters from movies, shows, books, and even bands. Sometimes video games as well.

 

Brendon: He obviously hasn't read too many fanfictions.

 

Obviously. And ships are my life, so let's do this. I actually got a few really cool requests! I wanna answer them... Okay, a question for Brendon first. Who's your OTP?

 

Brendon: Agh... Umm, for some weird reason, I've been reading a lot of Waycest...

 

Mikey: GOD NO. NEXT QUESTION.

 

Eww... That's even too extreme for me, Bren. Okay, Mikey... What are your views on Petekey?

 

Mikey: *cough cough* Petekey? Bitch, that shit is real. That's my OTP.

 

And that answers my next question. Hey, who's everyone's OTP?

 

Gerard, Pete, Dallon, Patrick: Petekey!

 

Frank, Dallon: Ryden! 

 

Spencer, Andy, Joe, Ray: What is 'OTP'?

 

Oh my gosh, idiots. You guys, Joe do you not know?!

 

Ray: At least we don't waste away on a phone screen, writing gay smut and fanfiction.

 

LET US NOT BRING MY HOBBIES INTO THIS. 

 

Ray: Mhmm...

 

Spencer: Umm, what's an OTP?

 

Frank: One true pairing. We already answered this.

 

Spencer: Oh, then that'd have to be Drarry.

 

Gerard: AGH MY SHIP SAILS WITH ANOTHER BEING! 

 

Ray: One true pairing? Alphys and Undyne from Undertale.

 

Andy: Peterick then.

 

Brendon: Dude, you sound like some gay guy with a lisp.

 

Andy: Fuck you!

 

Dallon: Guys stop! 

 

*arguing ensues*

 

Joe: I'm kind of a Rikey junkie.

 

*silence* 

 

Ray: _Rikey?_

 

Joe: Yes...?

 

Mikey: Oh my gosh, eww...

 

Gerard: That's vile. Where did Rikey even come from? 

 

Ray: What's Rikey?

 

Mikey: Why do people always make us fuck in fanfictions?

 

Frank: I quite like it...

 

Patrick: Well, I sure don't. It's great to be creative, but still.

 

...

 

Brendon: Faith, you're awful quiet there.

 

Me? No.

 

Ryan: Guys, we may have offended her...

 

Gerard: She does write gay smut. It's all Frerard stuff. 

 

*coughs* Frerard junk. 

 

Frank: It's not too bad. 

 

Pete: Yes it is. It's disgusting. 

 

Hey, okay, next question! Frank, who tops? You or Gerard?

 

Frank: *blushes* Oh God, umm... We change it. Usually, I top.

 

Gerard: Umm, not true.

 

 

Mikey: I top too! *high-fives Frank*

 

Brendon: Yeah! Top buddies! *high-five party*

 

Gerard: Well, Pete and Ryan. This calls for a toast. Toast of the bottoms. 

 

Brendon: Oh gosh, that song again? 

 

Ray, how do you feel about Rikey? 

 

Ray: One word: eww.

 

I feel you!

 

Frank: HEY DO NOT FORGET ABOUT THAT ONE FANFIC YOU WROTE! 

 

Let's not bring that one up. I needed the audience! 

 

Patrick: Hmm... Why do so many fans ship Petekey? 

 

Brendon: Because they're fucking adorable together. Have you seen them on Twitter? Pete is always trying to tap that.

 

I THINK THAT'S ENOUGH FOR THIS CHAPTER.

 

Dallon: Chapter?

 

Spencer: Is this another fanfiction? 

 

NO!

 

Ray: Faith—

 

AGH! NOPE! DONE! THANKS FOR COMING GUESTS!


	3. First Dates and How'd You Meet

Guys! Guys! My peeps!

 

Gerard: *loud sigh* What the fuck? Why are you always bothering us?

 

Frank: You're annoying.

 

Bitch, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be talking right now.

 

Ray: Wha—

 

OKAY! I have a few questions for you guys today. Basic topic revolves around first meetings, ideal dates, y'know. 

 

Mikey: Any special guests today?

 

I wanted to have Pete over, but he called in sick. 

 

Mikey: *blushes*

 

What? Why are you—

 

Mikey: HE'S IN MY BUNK DON'T KILL ME PLEASE!

 

Gerard: So _that's_ what those noises were last night...

 

Ray: They kept me up all night, you fucker.

 

Frank: Jesus, Mikey. Why the fuck would you even do that?

 

Mikey: Stop yelling! Don't be mad... Sorry for engaging in sexual intercourse with my significant other.

 

GUYS THIS IS ALL BESIDE THE POINT. Mikes, go get Pete from your bunk. Now.

 

Mikey: Okay... *leaves room* 

 

Gerard: Glad that's over. And solved. I didn't get any sleep last night, and after six cups of coffee, I'm still tired as fuck.

 

Frank: Gee, that can't be healthy.

 

Ray: Does he look like he cares?

 

Frank: Well, no, but—

 

Guys, come on. We don't need a million-word chapter. My first question is how did Gerard and Ray meet? I mean, you two _did_ start the band, for the most part.

 

Gerard: Oh, that's a great question...

 

Ray: And one that I'm not all too sure we should answer.

 

Gerard: Oh, why not? It's normal for people to meet in sex stores and start talking about music.

 

Frank: I've never heard this story. Do proceeds, Gerard.

 

Ray: Why can't _I_ tell the story? 

 

Frank: Because you are literally the worst story-teller ever.

 

Ray: You know what, fuck you.

 

GUYS!

 

Gerard: This was way back... Way, way back. I had gone to the sex store, as a joke. Well, I mean, Mikey was also turning nineteen, and I wanted to get him some porn disks... And I wanted a vibrator. I hadn't been fucked for years, and I was getting lonely. You can't blame me. Anyways, Ray was there too... Why were you there?

 

Ray: For a completely normal reason. My girlfriend and I ran out of lube, and the best kind is always found at erotic sex stores.

 

Frank: Erotic V...

 

Gerard: Honey, we aren't discussing our favorite positions right now.

 

Ray: GOD WHAT?

 

Gerard: So I ran into Ray at the sex store, while he was looking for lube. I was looking for some, too. I asked him which type he recommended. He was a nervous wreck, I tell you. 

 

Ray: Was not!

 

Gerard: And I was wearing a shirt... What shirt was it?

 

Ray: An Iron Maiden shirt. God, I love that band.

 

Gerard: Yeah, and he immediately got chill when he saw it. Asked me if I liked them and all. And then he told me that he could play  'Fear Of The Dark' on the guitar, and I was impressed. Tough shit.

 

That's so sweet! Bonding over heavy metal...

 

Gerard: Yeah. So that's how we met. He took me over to his house to admire his collection of sheet music and band posters. All while holding a black bag containing lube. I had a vibrator, DVDs, and lube in mine, so I can't be one to judge.

 

Frank: Wow... That's a great story.

 

Ray: It's embarrassing.

 

How did you and Gee meet, Frank? 

 

Frank: At some gig. At the time, I was playing for The Used, and Gerard was somehow friends with Bert.

 

Gerard: I was a bit of a prostitute... At the time. It's illegal, but it was only every now and then...

 

Frank: Are you fucking kidding me? 

 

Gerard: Bert was just a fuck buddy. We became friends for a little, and then I refused to fuck with him again, so he got mad and left. 

 

Frank: We'll talk about this later. So yeah, Bert knew Gerard, and once My Chemical Romance started to tour and stuff, Bert told Gee about me. I mean, Gerard had also liked me. He saw my abilities and asked if I wanted to join the band.

 

That is so cute! Agh, all the feels.

 

*enter Mikey and Pete*

 

PETE! HEY!

 

Pete: Hi Faith! Sorry about that. Plans changed...

 

Gerard: We all know you were fucking Mikey last night.

 

Ray: Unfortunately.

 

Pete: Oh, stop.

 

Mikey: Yeah, guys. He's my boyfriend. Piss off.

 

Frank: How'd you guys meet, anyways?

 

Mikey: Ah. Record store. It was cliché, really. I was working as a cashier and all, and Pete was being flirty as fuck. This goes back way before the bands.

 

Pete: Mhmm. It was sweet.

 

Ideal date?

 

Ray: Video games and Chinese take out.

 

Gerard: Coffee shop and comics. Me and Frank do that all the time.

 

Frank: Loud concert, and then go home and watch a cheesy horror flick afterwards. How fun would that be?

 

Mikey: You guys are crazy. Obviously the best date is an actual dinner, and then an ice hockey game afterwards. Or maybe going to a wrestling match after. I don't know, either or.

 

Pete: We do that a lot.

 

Gerard: What about you, Faith?

 

Definitely love your idea, Gee. I love comics and coffee shops. And just reading in general. Ray, what do you look for in a girl? Since you're literally the only straight person here.

 

Ray: You're not?

 

Agh, fuck. I know I wanted to come out to the readers in a creative way, but this isn't what I meant...

 

Pete: You done fucked up now. Let shit slip.

 

You shut your mouth.

 

Gerard: Hey, Pete, fuck you.

 

Frank: It's okay, Faith. Let 'em know. 

 

Gerard: Are you gay?

 

Not exactly. I'm pansexual.

 

Ray: So... You're attracted to pans?

 

Frank: *laughs* Guys, I have a joke.

 

Gerard: What is it?

 

 

Frank: Pan-ic! at the Disco.

 

Really, Frank?

 

Frank: Hey, you know you've been wanting to make that joke for a while.

 

Ray: What does 'pansexual' even mean?

 

In terms of sexual and romantic attraction, I'm basically gender-blind. You could be a guy, girl, both, neither, or whatever.

 

Pete: That sounds pretty cool, actually.

 

Yeah... It feels great to openly admit that, y'know? Well, BACK TO THE QUESTION! Ray...?

 

Ray: Right, right. Umm... She has to be fun, but wise. Comedic. Funny. But smart and... Yeah. Have some common sense.

 

Well, that last part kicks me off of the list then.

 

Gerard: Me too.

 

Frank: Same.

 

Pete: I think I have a little bit of common sense. 

 

Mikey: I'd beg to differ.

 

Pete: Umm, did I ask you?

 

GUYS ENOUGH! Stop arguing. Shut the fuck up and get along.

 

Gerard: Who pissed in your Cheerios?

 

Frank: Your mom.

 

Pete: OH ZING!

 

Mikey: Stop making 'danisnotonfire' references. You said the same shit last night.

 

Ray: UMM WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION!

 

Yikes... That's nasty, you two. Weird. Don't tell me you reenacted 'The Nacho Fic'... Or 'The Hat Fic', for that matter.

 

Frank: Poor hamster.

 

Okay yeah that's definitely enough for this chapter.

 

Pete: Lots has happened. First dates, ideals, and Faith coming out.

 

Okay yeah if you're going to make some huge deal out of it...

 

Frank: I could sing that song from your other fanfiction!

 

NO! THAT IS ENOUGH!

 

Gerard: I'll just close this up. Ask questions, get answers. Don't get yourself too attached to this shit, because once you come, you can't never leave.

 

Mikey: HOTEL CALIFORNIA!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I trust you all. I did want to come out to you guys, and I thought that this would be a little interesting... 
> 
> Thanks for all the support! Make sure to ask questions and all in the comments! A kudos never hurt, either!
> 
> Hugs!
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals


	4. The Thing About Fear...

Gerard: I swear to God, he wasn't there!

 

Ray: How the fuck do you not know where he is? He's you're boyfriend! 

 

Gerard: That doesn't mean I _spy_ on him...

 

What's going on guys?

 

Mikey: Gee lost Frank. Again.

 

Again?

 

Gerard: You shut your whore mouth. I didn't lose him! He's not... He's not a fucking _pet_.

 

Mikey: Oh please. Don't fuck with me. You know where he is! We literally have a gig in twenty minutes.

 

Wait, what? You do? You guys aren't even a band any—

 

Ray: Where's Frank, Gee? In all seriousness, where is he?

 

Gerard: _I. Don't. Know._

 

Mikey: Gerard—

 

Okay we'll find Frank as soon as—

 

*Frank walks in*

 

Frank: 'Sup guys?

 

Gerard: _YOU ASS._

 

Mikey: Oh, he _wasn't_ hiding him in a closet or something.

 

This is my fanfiction and all, but I'm confused as fuck.

 

Ray: Well, Frank has been missing all night. We thought that maybe Gerard had hidden him in a closet or in a coffin somewhere. They had a bit of a... A bit of an argument after the interview ended. The whole 'Bert as a fuck friend' thing.

 

Gerard: That's a bit personal.

 

Mikey: Personal my ass, Gee. 

 

Frank: Guys, it's okay. I'm here now, we're okay.

 

Hey, I have a question for _you_ , Frank. 

 

Frank: Oh really?

 

Where the fuck were you? 

 

Frank: *grimaces* Well...

 

Gerard: You have a shit ton of explaining to do. 

 

Well, I mean, I have some questions, but for now, explain.

 

Ray: Fuck your questions.

 

You shut your mouth.

 

Frank: I'm sorry. I asked Gerard about Bert after your questions yesterday, and, well, he explained. And I guess I didn't like the way he explained it. So I needed some space, got wasted at some random bar, and realized my greatest fear.

 

Oh! Well, how ironic! Because that's the topic today.

 

Ray: Getting wasted at a bar?

 

No, fear.

 

Gerard: False evidence appearing real. 

 

You sound like my social studies and bible teacher. 

 

Gerard: Well I sure as hell am not.

 

I know _that_.

 

Frank: Umm, are you gonna ask me my greatest fear or...?

 

Mikey: Fuck you!

 

Frank: Well, it's losing self control. The idea of just losing myself and all control and concept of reality is terrifying to me. 

 

Gerard: Says the 5'4 man-child who jumps around a fucking stage and makes out with me in front of thousands of people. Live. Only to be watched on YouTube and Tumblr years later.

 

Umm...

 

Frank: 5'6, actually.

 

Ray: You're short, that's all.

 

Well...

 

Mikey: That's deep. I mean, really deep. Maybe we can all learn something.

 

And what's that?

 

Mikey: That we shouldn't have fuck friends.

 

*face-palm* Oh God, Mikes.

 

Gerard: Let's see... Ask questions now. We have a gig and—

 

Ray: No we don't.

 

STOP IT! Okay, Gerard, what's your biggest fear? *whispers* Needles...

 

Gerard: Needles. And also, I have flight anxiety.

 

CALLED IT!

 

Gerard: I mean, who doesn't know that? 

 

After 'A Splitting of the Mind', that was obvious.

 

Gerard: That's not even real.

 

Frank: And thank God for it!

 

Preach.

 

Ray: What's that?

 

The saddest fanfiction in existence. Ever.

 

Ray: So I shouldn't read it?

 

Frank: You deserve to be sad.

 

Gerard: *smacks Frank* _Frank!_ No one deserves to be 'ASOTM' sad...

 

Frank: *sigh* You're right...

 

Okay, well... Ray? Biggest fear?

 

Ray: My biggest fear is drowning. I literally can't swim.

 

Mikey: Ha! I thought you were gonna be afraid of your fro taking over the world or something...

 

Gerard: I'm also afraid of living. Like, making the choices I want to make, but still trying to fit everyone else's image for me. It's not death. It's just living.

 

Frank: Woah man.

 

Frank? 

 

Frank: Oh, God, without a doubt it's spiders. Terrified. Also, small spaces. More spiders though. Obviously not needles, I mean... *stretches out arms*

 

Gerard: Okay, yeah, we get it.

 

Mikey? You're awfully quiet.

 

Mikey: Sorry. Mine is a little...

 

Gerard: Oh, God, you child.

 

Mikey: FINE! Large bodies of water. I used to have this fear of the sharks being in the swimming pool or something...

 

Ray: Yeah, after making the 'Ghost of You' video, Mikey suffered from many sleepless nights.

 

Mikey: We almost died!

 

Frank: I'm scared of that, too. Large bodies of water. Used to be terrified of heights.

 

Ray: Speaking of heights, flying. I mean, being in a band, I've kind of gotten over it.

 

Way to go, Ray.

 

Frank: Heh, that rhymed.

 

Gerard: Are you still drunk?

 

Frank: No. But I have a nasty headache.

 

Mikey: What would you say Bob's is?

 

Gerard: *scoffs* That bitch isn't a part of this band anymore.

 

Language!

 

Gerard: What the actual fuck, Faith?

 

Mikey: He was afraid of heights and being in the middle of an ocean.

 

Frank: I forget that you guys hung out a lot.

 

Mikey: Umm, you're one to talk!

 

Ray: Faith is awfully quiet. What's your fear?

 

Correction: _fears_.

 

Mikey: Lord, I forget you're a teenager. How many?

 

A lot...

 

Gerard: Needles?

 

No.

 

Frank: Spiders?

 

Nopes.

 

Ray: Oceans?

 

Not really.

 

Mikey: Heights?

 

I don't think so.

 

Frank: Then what?

 

Well, I'm afraid of the dark. Deathly afraid. 

 

Ray: *laughs* Wimp.

 

Says the guy who can't swim.

 

Gerard: He can't dance, either.

 

Frank: And he doesn't know karate.

 

Mikey: Face it, we need to stop making references to that era.

 

It was the best era.

 

Gerard: Agreed.

 

Frank: It was.

 

Ray: A moment of silence for the 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge' era. 

 

*silence*

 

Okay then. Well... Losing self control, too. Like Frank said. Umm... People. I have social anxiety. 

 

Gerard: I feel yah, sister.

 

*in head* Sister? Oh my gosh, did Gerard Arthur Way of Summit, New Jersey call me his sister? 

 

Frank: Faith, you okay?

 

May I wish you a late happy birthday, Gerard?

 

Gerard: Umm, you've already told me several times yesterday...

 

HAPPY DAY-LATE BIRTHDAY GERARD.

 

Gerard: Umm, thanks?

 

Frank: Well. Any other fears?

 

My parents finding out about some things. Disappointing others. Ha, that fear has been confirmed so many times. Uh, never amounting to much, and also vomiting.

 

Gerard: Vomiting? I love watching people hurl.

 

Frank: You're so fucking weird.

 

Gerard: Yes, I know.

 

Ray: Puking is gross, but I've gotten used to it. We used to drink way too much.

 

Mikey: Oh yeah. 

 

Well, this has been a surprisingly normal conversation.

 

Ray: Yes, your outburst of wishing Gerard a 'happy birthday' was very normal.

 

For me it was, Ray. For me it was... *fangirl moment*

 

Frank: O-kay, well, that wraps up this Q&A session.

 

Gerard: Yep. See you later guys...

 

Ray: But the gig—

 

STOP IT! MY EMO HEART!

 


	5. Wives React

Ray: You know what concerns me?

 

What would that be, Raymond?

 

Frank: Holy shit, when did you get here?

 

Bitch you live in my head. Wait, I mean—

 

Gerard: Well then.

 

Mikey: Makes me feel so fucking independent.

 

Ray: So much privacy.

 

Guys, just stop. But Ray, what _does_ concern you? 

 

Ray: Just been thinking about this 'Frerard' and 'Petekey' stuff. 

 

Ah, two of my most valiant ships. 

 

Frank: Frerard is love.

 

Gerard: Frerard is life.

 

NO 'SHREK IS LOVE, SHREK IS LIFE' REFERENCES P-LEASE!

 

Mikey: That definitely scarred me.

 

*Patrick and Pete walk in* 

 

Patrick: Hey guys!

 

Pete: Mikey bae!

 

Mikey: Heya, Petes.

 

Ray: See, that concerns me. What would Alicia say, Mikes?

 

Mikey: Alicia? Dude, we got a divorce...

 

Ray: Wait, what the fuck?

 

Frank: Yeah, what?

 

Gerard: Ugh, this conversation? 

 

Agh, this troubled me for months when I found out.

 

Pete: Mikes, if you don't want to talk about it—

 

Patrick: Why am I here? 

 

We're discussing ships and reactions.

 

Mikey: She spread some shit saying I cheated on her, but we actually split.

 

Gerard: And what a fucking bitch.

 

Pete: *hugs Mikey* Oh, bebe, it's okay...

 

Frank: Bebe? 

 

Pete: Yes, motherfucker, got a problem?

 

Frank: Umm, n-no.

 

Well, that does get us on a good topic...

 

Ray: You ask way too many questions.

 

IT'S MY GODDAMN JOB YOU TWIT. I mean, I love you Ray!

 

Frank: Okay, keep your cool... What's the topic?

 

Gerard: What is it today?

 

Mikey: Obviously something to do with 'Frerard' and 'Petekey'. Maybe 'Peterick', too. 

 

How very observant you are, Mikey. I call it 'Wives React to Homosexual Relationships Amongst Two of the Bands in the Holy Emo Trinity'.

 

Gerard: That's for the public.

 

Frank: We kinda have to.

 

Patrick: Oh yeah. Well, I mean, _I'm_ married, but...

 

Pete: Yeah. I mean, I got a divorce and all...

 

Mikey: I have a public girlfriend. I mean, she knows about Pete. She was more than willing to cover.

 

Oh, I see...

 

Frank: Besides, Jamia and Lindsey are dating too. It's very complicated.

 

Then who the fuck has custody over Bandit, Miles, Lily, and Cherry?

 

Frank: I don't know, you tell us.

 

Gerard: Do you know how fucked up your timeline is? 

 

Leave me be. This is all fiction anyways...

 

Patrick: Yeah well... It's weird. You're mentally unstable.

 

THERE IS A TIME AND PLACE TO TALK ABOUT MENTAL CONDITION, PATRICK!

 

Pete: Gosh, Pat, you can't just ask people if they're mentally unstable.

 

Patrick: I didn't ask.

 

Ray: You are all so fucking...

 

Mikey: You shut your mouth. 

 

Pete: Now, Mikey, it's okay... *pets Mikey's hair*

 

Gerard: Okay, well... Now that it's been established that all of these are just fake relationships appearing to be real for the sake of public... I mean, I love Lindsey. So much. But it's very complicated. Your mind is a mess, Faith. 

 

I know... *curls up into a potato ball*

 

Frank: Okay, umm... Well, yeah. So those questions have been answered, and... That's it for this chapter? 

 

Gerard: Fuck, yeah...

 

Ray: See you all next chapter.

 

Pete: Can someone poke that thing with a stick and get it to move?

 

Mikey: Pete, you insensitive cunt, that's Faith.

 

No, it's okay...

 

Patrick: Chapter over. Bah-bye, peeps.

 

 


	6. The Talk About Tattoos

Guys you are going to be SO excited! 

 

Ray: What?

 

Mikey: Not likely. 

 

Gerard: Oh God, this child again.

 

Frank: Oh, cut her some slack. I mean, we wouldn't exactly be talking if it weren't for her.

 

Gerard: Her obsession doesn't pay my bills.

 

Ray: Well, in a sense, it kind of does.

 

Mikey: I would just like to bring up that creepy fan who dressed up just like me that once...?

 

Frank: No, anything but that. 

 

See, I'm not _that_ creepy... *shoves black wig and black makeup and suit under the chair* 

 

Ray: So, what do we have to be excited for?

 

Frank: Yeah, you interrupted a perfectly good Nintendo game.

 

Gerard: Shame.

 

Oh shut up. Okay, okay, you guys are gonna guess!

 

Mikey: Ugh, no.

 

Ugh, yes. Frank, you'll like this one.

 

Frank: What one? 

 

Okay guys, what comes to mind when I say these names: Tony Perry, Ronnie Radke, Oliver Sykes, Andy Biersack, Frank Iero—

 

Gerard: *coughs* Sex for that last one.

 

Mikey: *punches Gerard in the arm* Dear God, no.

 

—Andy Hurley, and Joe Trohman. 

 

Ray: ...Good music? 

 

True, but no. Think. 

 

Frank: The source for all terrible and very smutty fanfictions? 

 

No, Frank. No. 

 

Mikey: Cool hair? Except for Frank.

 

Frank: Hey! 

 

True, but no. Do you guys give up?

 

*silence*

 

Well, okay then. Today's topic is... drumroll please... TATTOOS!

 

Gerard: Yep, okay, I'm out. *flips the room off and walks out the door* 

 

Mikey: I'm not staying in here for this. This is lame shit that I don't need to get involved with. *follows Gerard out of the room*

 

Ray: I have better things to do, sorry guys... *leaves as well*

 

Frank: Sooooo... Tattoos.

 

Yep. *in head: I have Frank Iero all to myself oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my—*

 

*enter Tony Perry, Joe Trohman, Andy Hurley, Ronnie Radke, and Andy Biersack* 

 

Andy B: We've been waiting outside for almost twenty minutes.

 

Tony: What was the hold-up?

 

Frank: Why were you guys so early...?

 

Ronnie: I don't know what it was, but there were all these people with merchandise and cameras and stuff asking us to sign it out to—

 

HEY HOW ABOUT WE START THE INTERVIEW HMM?

 

Joe: Oh God, another interview.

 

Andy H: Last time I was here, someone made fun of my voice.

 

Oliver: That's some tough shit there.

 

Well, you must all be wondering why I gathered you here today...

 

Joe: Not really. You said it was something about tattoos when you called.

 

Tony: She _called_ you?  

 

Joe: Yep. Pete gave Mikey my number, Mikey gave it to Brendon, and Faith got Brendon drunk and demanded my number.

 

Tony: Well, fuck. She arrived at my doorstep, disguised as a trick-or-treater. It was weird, given that it's April. So I immediately felt bad, because there's this super short kid on my porch, babbling incoherently. So I assumed the kid was either loaded or was mental.

 

Frank: Both, to be honest.

 

Andy B: Do you... Do you know her?

 

Frank: Oh, yeah. I'm in all the interviews so far. This is a My Chem question and answer thing, anyways.

 

Andy B: Oh, okay.

 

Oliver: Okay, well, are we gonna start this, or...?

 

Joe: Preferably no.

 

Yes, we'll start... Eh, let's see. Andy, which of your tattoos is most important to you? 

 

Andy B: I honestly don't even pay attention to half the shit that I get tattooed onto my body. I'm drunk half the time. Maybe, like, my BVB wings one? 

 

Andy H: I mean, like, all of my tattoos are a big thing for me. I love them all, and I look great in them. 

 

*both Andy's look at each other* 

 

Andy H: Oh, I—

 

Andy B: No, my bad—

 

Tony: Stop being awkward shits. I think the most important tattoos to me are the 'Father' and 'Mother' ones on my hands, I dunno...

 

Frank: God, I don't even know which one is mine. I mean, I love my 'Search and Destroy' one, the 'Keep the Faith' one, the NJ anchor, the 'HOPE' one, dunno. Maybe the ones with my family's names on them. 

 

May I ask, Frank, what made you get the scorpion tattoo on your neck? *whispers: zodiac signs cough cough*

 

Frank: Ah, the scorpion... *points to the scorpion tattoo on his neck* It's my zodiac sign. I'm a Scorpio, Halloween, yeah.

 

Aha! Knew it! 

 

Oliver: How the hell did you know that?

 

Actually, I was kinda impressed with myself. It's not actually proven of anything like that, but I though about it while I was writing some other fanfiction, and that's my logic. 

 

Andy H: Ah, I see...

 

Joe: Well, I must say that I love all of my tattoos, from the keyhole to the skeleton to the 'viva hate' one I have on my stomach. 

 

You know what, in order to record this as scientific research, I say that you all take off your shirts, and then it'll be way easier to see your tattoos!

 

Andy H: Well, my shirt is already off, so...

 

*everyone takes their shirts off*

 

*heavy breathing* O-okay. Yep. Recording stuff... *pretends to scribble something on a notepad* 

 

Andy B: I'm not wearing a shirt either. This thing is, like, a vest...?

 

Ronnie: Me too! Well, this is more like a scarf thing...

 

Tony: This is awkward, may I leave? 

 

Oliver: My privacy is being invaded. 

 

Frank: I don't even give a fuck. This is, like, a group therapy session thing. I don't even know.

 

Ronnie: Hi, my name is Ronnie I'm an addict. 

 

Joe: No.

 

Andy B: Just stop. 

 

Frank: Hey, Faith, what tattoos would you want?

 

*murmurs of gratitude*

 

Me? Oh, hold on. Let's see...

 

Ronnie: Well, she's not gonna be in a band ever, so it's not okay to get a million tattoos.

 

Joe: You have to consider your future as a psychologist for adolescents. 

 

It's not like I'm planning on, like, full sleeves.

 

Oliver: You know that you're going to own like twenty band tees and a million pairs of skinny black jeans. And you're going to be an adult. 

 

Frank: It's important to remember that your parents only have two tattoos each.

 

You mean my step-mom has two tattoos, and so does my dad. Now, if we want to talk about my mom...

 

Andy B: Well, true. But we know that she didn't make the best life choices.

 

Says the guy who got 'F' and 'P' tattooed onto his hands because of the way his dick looks in spandex.

 

Andy H: Oh, ouch.

 

Joe: Oh zing! 

 

Tony: Damn.

 

Andy B: Okay, well... 

 

Anyways, my mom has a lot of tattoos, but I don't want a lot of them. I want tattoos that mean something to me.

 

Frank: So, you're saying that you're gonna get Gee's face tattooed to your back?

 

Absolutely _not_! *quickly throws away a sketch of Gerard* That's ridiculous. No, but I am going to get an MCR tattoo. I think I either want one that says 'I lost my fear of falling' or 'mercí pour le venin' at the bottom of my back, above my waist. 

 

Oliver: *scoff* Killjoy trash.

 

Frank: *jumps up* Woah there, you little shit. Say that again.

 

Joe: Well I guess we're done here then... *leaves room*

 

Oli, what's your favorite tattoo? 

 

Oliver: *glaring at Frank* Kill. Joy. Trash.

 

Frank: GAH! *jumps onto Oli and tackled him to the ground* 

 

*both Andy's jump up*

 

Andy B: This is worse than any of Onision's interviews *runs out of room* 

 

Guys, no, please! 

 

Andy H: And I'm out too *leaves room* 

 

Tony: I would stay and watch, but I have more important things to do... *leaves* 

 

FRANK AND OLI, YOU FUCKS! 

 

Oliver: Okay, damnit, this little shit is fucking strong.

 

Frank: KILLJOY TRASH AND EMO MY ASS!

 

Oliver: DUDE, YOU'RE GONNA BREAK MY ARM. 

 

Frank: GOOD!

 

Okay that's it for this— WOAH, FRANK, STOP—

 


	7. From My Head to my Middle Finger, I Really Think I Like You

Frank, where is everyone?

 

Frank: They all deserted me to go to a pizza place.

 

And you didn't go because yeah, lactose and dairy?

 

Frank: I could've gotten something without dairy in it I guess. But Gerard is kind of mad with me for some really random reason...

 

And he made you stay home?

 

Frank: Sort of. He told me that he'd rather me not come, and then Ray and Mikey nodded, and they all left me... *sad face*

 

Oh hey don't be sad... What do you say we do an interview, right here and now. You and me.

 

Frank: Dear Lord, I pray you take me now.

 

Oh hey, I'm not _that_ bad.

 

Frank: You're right... *falls to floor* SATAN PLEASE.

 

*pulls Frank off the floor* You know, if this was a real life interview, you wouldn't be doing this shit.

 

Frank: We're not even a band—

 

OKAY TODAY'S TOPIC ABOUT A FAN THEORY MANY HAVE TAKEN UP. I don't really believe in it, because I believe you and Gerard and married separately and happily, and that you have both parted way romantically—

 

Frank: *scoffs*

 

—but for some reason, this theory still exists.

 

Frank: If you're referring to that MySpace thing, I'd rather not talk about it.

 

Well too bad. You clearly know about it.

 

Frank: Oh, all too well.

 

So, are you going to explain or...?

 

Frank: *sighs* Okay, I guess so... It started as a joke. People were calling us 'emo' and shit and talking crap about us, so Gee decided that if we were going to be called that, we may as well take up 'emo' social media. Namely MySpace. 

 

Ah, that makes sense. Did any of the other band members make a MySpace?

 

Frank: Nope. They were all too busy, but I kind of got obsessed with it. I needed a name. Something that no one could identify me by, because then they would see through the public acts of me and Gerard marrying Jamia and Lindsey, blah blah confusion, and so, I chose F. T. Willz.

 

Really? 

 

Frank: Nah, I'm just kidding. 

 

What the fuck Frank, do you know how confusing you sound right now? 

 

Frank: No shit Sherlock. Anyways, so, F. T. Willz. I made the stupid mistake of friending my old business and label, and so yeah. People were already getting really suspicious. And then, I decided to write a poem. No one knew for sure it was me... So I wrote a poem.

 

Ah, I see. And that was about 2008? 

 

Frank: Yeah.

 

So, you are aware that people believe that this poem is about Gerard? 

 

Frank: Mhmm, because it is. I staged it, don't you get it? It's all a cover-up.

 

But Gerard got married in 2007...

 

Frank: Exactly. So, in public, I couldn't have him the same way. I'm the one who started the rumor about me crying when they got married. There's a reason we fought on stage. 

 

Wait, so everything—all the acts, the poems, the marriage—was a lie?

 

Frank: Well, yeah. We had to keep our relationship a secret. Why? Because, the hate would literally kill Gerard. He had gotten sober, that was good, but he was still teetering on the edge about the whole thing. He didn't need those labels as 'fag' or 'gay'. That's what I believe.

 

Well then...

 

Frank: Anyways, I make a Tumblr. For some stupid reason, maybe I wanted to start a fight or something, I copied the poem from my MySpace and put it in Tumblr. People definitely noticed that.

 

Well, duh. Everyone was heartbroken. We were appalled.

 

Frank: So was I. Anyways, then the whole thing with the girl on Twitter started, where everyone said that those poems were by her. 

 

Yeah, I don't know about that.

 

Frank: Me either. But the theory still lives on, and I'd say it's pretty spot-on for the most part. Well, besides the whole thing about wanting what I can't have. I can have Gee anytime I want, it's just that I can't show everyone. 

 

Oh damn. Still, I kind of just got over the fact that it wouldn't happen. That you two had moved on. That's why I don't write fanfiction about like Lindsey and Gerard fucking or you and Jamis doing that. Because I know that's real.

 

Frank: So you're saying that Frerard isn't real? 

 

I'm saying that it was, and that I just love gay fanfiction.

 

Frank: I suppose. You do know how fucked up this chapter is, right? How many people are gonna hate your guts?

 

Yeah, well... It doesn't really matter. What happens in fanfiction stays in fanfiction.

 

Frank: Except for 'The Nacho Fic' and 'The Milk Fic'...

 

Damnit Frank, no.

 

Frank: ' _Ryan was kneeling in the bathtub, a towel under his knees and another under his hands, his head turned as he craned his neck to watch Brendon working..._ '

 

Oh God please...

 

Frank: It took a while to remember that shit. 

 

Wait, you remembered it? 

 

Frank: A few parts.

 

God save... Okay. Well, I think that that concludes this chapter.

 

Frank: A very fucked up and incorrect in so many ways chapter.

 

Too true. See you next time! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People are gonna be so pissed. I'd love to hear your theories, and I know that this chapter is so fucking bad, but I have had zero inspiration lately. Sorry all! 
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals


	8. Things Get Even More Personal, If That's Possible

Guys, I wanna talk about your personal lives.

 

Ray: Then what do you call the topics we usually talk about? 

 

Gerard: I'm saying... Anywho, how come?

 

Mikey: Mhmm. 

 

Frank: I don't even give a fuck anymore, to be honest. My privacy is literally zero around this girl. 

 

Oh, whatever. I just have a few questions about like your pets and social media accounts and breakfast routines. The normality is killing me.

 

Gerard: _Normality?_ Breakfast routines aren't a normal topic of conversation. 

 

With th me they are. So, _Ray_ , what's your favorite breakfast? 

 

Ray: It's a little hard for me to eat breakfast. I have to tie my hair back or else I walk around with half a bowl of Cheerios stuck in there.

 

Frank: That's the truth.

 

Gerard: This is gospel. 

 

*Brendon Urie jumps into the room wearing nothing but Speedos* 

 

Brendon: FOR THE FALLEN ONES, LOCKED AWAY IN PERMANENT SLUMBER. ASSEMBLING THEIR PHILOSOPHIES, FROM PIECES OF BROKEN MEMORIES... *runs back out the door*

 

*silence* 

 

Mikey: Umm...

 

Okay then? Eh, let's see. But Ray, you didn't even answer my question.

 

Ray: I kinda love omelettes. 

 

Oh wow. Diverse.

 

Frank: Okay so there was this food truck thing, and they had a Nutella crepe. Well, I had diarrhea for days, but damn, was it worth it.

 

Mikey: Anything but eggs.

 

Gerard: Coffee! And Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

 

Agh, Gee, that is literally me. *high-fives Gerard*

 

Frank: But you love Nutella too... 

 

*high-fives Frank* That I do.

 

Mikey: So why do you want to know about our social media? 

 

Because. And also, why the fuck do you look like Macklemore? 

 

Mikey: What do you mean? I don't look like Macklemore...

 

*takes out that picture of Mikey in the giant fur coat* 

 

Mikey: That doesn't even—

 

*takes out a picture of Macklemore*

 

Mikey: Oh.

 

Yeah... *puts away both pictures* So, Gee, care to explain why you always change your name and bio on Twitter?

 

Gerard: Because I evolve. 

 

What I wouldn't give for a Gerard Pokémon...

 

Frank: And a little Frankie one!

 

Haha, totally. Eh... Anyways, it went from 'sleep lord' to 'night lord' Gee. 

 

Gerard: And?

 

YEAH AND SPEAKING OF, WHY DO YOU REFUSE TO FOLLOW ME (and my potato friend, I didn't forget about her) ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA? HAVE YOU NOT SEEN MY PINTEREST? MY TUMBLR? 

 

Gerard: Woah, chill out man... I kinda don't like to follow fans, because then the ones I don't follow get all pissed and say I'm choosing favorite and shit.

 

BUT LIKE ALWAYS TAGGING YOU! No reblogs? No repins? Nothing? (And in many people's cases, no retweets?)

 

Gerard: Dude, I have a child. I can't be on social media all the time.

 

Frank: Yet you have a ton of time to play on Pottermore? 

 

Mikey: Oh, shots have been fired, bury the dead.

 

That's my thing! 

 

Ray: Oh shut up.

 

Woah, who pissed in your Cheerios? 

 

Frank: Heh, that's funny, since we were talking about hair and Cheerios...

 

Gerard: You're such a geek.

 

What about your pets? 

 

*everyone looks at Frank*

 

Frank: What? My dogs are doing great. I love them.

 

Mhmm. How many dogs do you even have? I know of nine.

 

Frank: And let's keep it that way.

 

Ray: Really? Name them.

 

Sweet Pea, Mama, Professor Buckley, Cujo, Texas, Houdini, Bela, Peppers, and Daisy. *mic drop*

 

Mikey: You're such a fucking stalker... 

 

I never denied it! Gee, your cats? 

 

Gerard: Mitchell and Jupiter. They're my babies! I love cats. 

 

Frank: And I quote: 'Cats or get the fuck out.'

 

Yep. I've seen that. Ray, do you have any pets? There's barely proof that you have a kid. I mean, you do, but you hate the publicity...

 

Ray: According to your knowledge, I don't have one. Stop probing my brain.

 

Mikey: YOU think I have cats and dogs. Bunny, Snowball, Winston, maybe Pumpkin.

 

Wait, Gee, do you have dogs?

 

Gerard: A while back. Olivia and Susan. Olivia was like the band's mascot.

 

Aww! And Ray, umm, you have a 'son', Bauer? 

 

Ray: Damnit.

 

Oh Ray! Bauer is adorable though! 

 

Ray: Just stop.

 

Frank: Bob had dogs, but one died because a trainer...

 

Yeah okay. I think that that is PLENTY for this chapter. I'm Dun. (a spoiler for next chapter, surprise!) 

 

Gerard: Good riddance too.

 

Ugh. So rude! I swear Gee, may as well call you Bee, because you're mean! 

 

*silence* 

 


	9. Obsessing and Fangirling Gets Me All Stressed Out

Hey guys! I have a huge surprise for you all today! 

 

Ray: Lord. 

 

Frank: Ugh, always with the surprises and shit.

 

Hey, it's a GOOD surprise! 

 

Gerard: I'm sure it can't be that bad guys. Cut the girl some slack.

 

I LOVE YOU TOO GEE!

 

Gerard: That's pushing it.

 

Mikey: *snorts* If it's not Pete in panties, I'm not interested.

 

Well, it's not Pete. Nor are there panties involved. However, there are cool handshakes and ski masks. 

 

Frank: Dude if Patrick was here he'd flip.

 

Mikey: I'm way lost...

 

Gerard: Haha, _Way_ lost.

 

Ray: No.

 

Frank: Much pun. 

 

Give it up for... JOSH DUN AND TYLER JOSEPH! *claps like a spasmodic seal*  

 

*Tyler and Josh ride in on mini-bikes*

 

Tyler: Hey everyone! 

 

Gerard: Yo.

 

Ray: Sup.

 

Mikey: Rad.

 

Frank: TYLER, JOSH, HUGE FANS! *jumps out of a chair and waves*

 

Josh: O-kay then. Well, we brought some art activities.

 

What the fuck?

 

*Josh and Tyler get off of their bikes and Tyler holds up a bag* 

 

Frank: This is the most fun we've ever had! All it is is usually questions and shit.

 

Well, yeah, because this is a question and answer fanfiction...

 

Josh: Okay yeah whatever. You can stop making it so boring for like one chapter and we can do arts and crafts.

 

Gerard: Frank, are you crying?

 

Mikey: Don't cry, just craft. 

 

Frank: I'm not crying! 

 

This is going to be a disaster... Umm yeah Tyler? Why are you taking out paint? 

 

Tyler: We're making paint gloves! *puts paint on the ground and beckons for Frank to come over* 

 

Gerard: Okay then? So, Josh, what's _your_ craft? 

 

Josh: We're gonna knit ski masks and also make really cool handshakes.

 

Ray: But I thought—

 

You guys, this is MADNESS. I HAVE A SCRIPT!

 

Mikey: Oh, shut up... *dips hands into the paint bucket* 

 

Frank: Me too! *dunks his hands in* 

 

GUYS!

 

Ray: *works on knitting a ski mask with Josh* Oh, lighten up Faith. Why don't you ask some questions while we do our activities? 

 

NO!

 

Gerard: Suit yourself... *makes up a random handshake with Josh* You're missing out.

 

*crosses arms* You guys totally ruined it.

 

Frank: Ruined it? Please.

 

*looks at Josh's hair and smirks* Don't worry, you're all gonna pay. Well, not Josh and Tyler, because, well, I kinda had to force them to come...

 

Tyler: You did threaten to spike my milk if I didn't come.

 

Josh: And you said you'd take all my socks.

 

Because who the fuck wears shorts with tights and socks? 

 

Frank: Everyone in today's society... 

 

Okay yeah. Whatever. But you *points to Mikey, then to Gerard, then to Ray, and then to Frank* will pay! Someone asked for Tyler and Josh to come in for Q&A, not arts and crafts... *slowly backs out of the room, squinting eyes*  

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, feel free to leave any questions for the band or any other band! I'll let you know if I can answer it! 
> 
> Please leave it in a form of who the question is for, and what the question is. If you want all of the band members to answer it, specify!
> 
> Thank you all so much!
> 
> xoromanticizingchemicals


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